The Information Junkie Read Online Free PDF Page A

see another X, and something added to her O. The O was the elephant's head and I would have added a trunk pointing either downwards or skywards.
    Oh, good. You're smiling again.
    Mm? Pardon? I'm not telling you. Why? Because Belinda is real. Oh, I know you think the Cybernurse is a bit of a fantasy and the Fierybird is a bit of a dream. I made both of them up. But Belinda is real. That's why I tell you less about her. I certainly do not report how she looks when she drops her nix, although she has told you about me. PC?
    No, let's not start that again.
    Right. It's time to tell you the truth. I've told you that Cyberchick and Ffion are inventions and that Belinda is real. So you'll want to know a few more details before I logoff. By the way, I've enjoyed your company. It was a fun ride although the destination has surprised me.
    Okay: I write software for a living. For a major financial services company but I work from home. B used to be a P.A. to a certain captain of industry—you don't really expect me to tell you his name—but gave that up just before we married. She decided to work on her kitchen skills. No, I'm only joking. She's a superb cook and that first meal was just a fiction. But the slip outside Boots was real enough.
    As a sideline I write software for computer games. A friend—Martin—and I do the scripts as well. But, as I say, that's just a hobby at the moment although it does pay disgustingly well. Our games are based around the types of characters in fantasy comics. There could be some adult ones but we're still at the pencil and paper stage.
    We've also done a little software for commercials. Do you know that one where a monkey morphs into a glass of beer? That's me. And Martin. That's us. (Pays extremely well.)
    Well, folks. Now I've told you my story. And some of it's real and some of it isn't. Please feel free to E me—my address is at the end. I have enjoyed speaking to you and sharing a few ideas. Isn't life a gas?
    *
    Thought Cybernurse was a little farfetched. Too obviously an adolescent male sexual fantasy. Speaking of which will you give Belinda a long wet one from me?
    Quite like your ideas, though, for the graphics for "Seven Nights with Cyberbabe".
    We don't seem to have had a drink or a curry for bloody ages. E me with a date.
    See you around.
    Martin.
    P.S. About that other thing—it's survivable.
     
     

 
    5
     
    Why are you still reading? I told you it was all resolved in section four. Mm? Oh, you like the piece? You want more?
    So, after the foretaste you want the FULL story?
    Fabuloso!
    Okay, buddies. Come with me: I'll give all the facts; the whole story, the full SP.
    I am going to tell you more about Ffion because she's been playing on my mind. And Martin's.
     Gonna be a monster, mates. Thought when I started that we were looking at a ten-sheeter. Tell you what, buds, reckon it's going to be nearer a hundred and ten. Wow!
    Babes, this is the REAL thing.
    So, adjust your dress, hang on to your straps. Gentlemen, lift the seat. Ladies, slip off your tights, slacken your bras. Gents: loosen your belts and drop your suspenders. Here we go:
    So I edged into doc's evening surgery:
    'I want to be eighteen again.'
    'That's not an illness.'
    'No medication for that?'
    He shook his head.
    'If you can't make me eighteen can you make me feel eighteen?'
    'That's not a clinical problem.'
    There was a silence.
    'Doc, I'm desperate.'
    The silence continued. I broke it:
    'It's me, doc, isn't it?'
    Doc nodded imperceptibly and gave me the full open-body posture again. He was saying: 'Give it all to me. I can soak it up. Anything you can throw at me, anything you present I can absorb.' He left a silence. 'All those tricks,' he said, 'I'll fix them, I'll hex them...' He paused again before looking at me then said, '...apart from this one.'
    As a doc he could either soak it up or deflect it. That was his job. Or he would hex it. But one thing he couldn't do was handle my stunts.
    'Doc,' I went on,